All Nighter
by Ellislash
Summary: Booze ain't the only thing you'll regret in the morning... Coarse language. I don't own anything Valve does. And why won't FF let me have a hyphen in the title, gosh dangit?


Kieth stood slack-jawed in the doorway, the jacket over his shoulder dangerously close to slipping from his hand. Half the garage was sparkling clean, tools stacked neatly and shelves free of grime; the other half looked like somebody'd set a dozen rabid racoons loose in there. Various bits of metal were strewn across the floor, the cordless drill case was open and full of screws, oily rags festooned every available surface... and in the middle of the mess was a beat-up '68 Stingray with a pair of big black Wolverines sticking out from under the raised chassis.

Ellis had stayed late last night to get somebody's new steering-fluid pump installed, but apparently he hadn't left when he was finished. Keith dropped his jacket on the desk and wandered over to the vehicle, careful not to kick any of the spare parts lying about. With his boot he gently nudged one of his friend's denim-clad legs, chuckling to himself.

"Rise n' shine, brother. Can't believe y'stayed here all night, man, the hell were ya thinkin'?"

There was no response. He knelt down on the concrete and tugged at the carpenter's loop on Ellis' jeans, causing the mechanic's dolly to roll out from under the car. Keith's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his auburn hair when he saw his friend's face. The idiot had somehow fallen asleep down there, and oil had been dripping onto his cheek all night. A big grimy splatter-mark spread from jaw to temple, trailing grease down his neck and under the collar of his shirt. One hand still grasped a small wrench that clanged gently against the floor.

Keith choked back laughter and jabbed Ellis in that one spot under his ribs that always made him jump.

"Gyeaaah!"

"What the hell ya gone an' done in here? Yer a mess!"

Ellis unfurled from his reflexive defensive position and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, successfully giving himself grease-black eyeshadow.

"Mfffwhuh... what time's it?"

"Time ta getchore ass up, sleepyhead, we gotta open in half an hour." Keith stood and extended his hand, which was gladly taken. He heaved his coworker off the ground and steadied him as the slowly waking mechanic stretched out cramped muscles.

"Jesus... _Christ_ in a handbasket. M'back's killin' me."

"Them things ain't made fer sleepin' on, genius. How the hell you manage that, anyways?"

"Ugh. Dunno. Jus' workin' on m'baby here... God, I feel like shit."

"I'm hurt, man. Y'musta been drinkin' the good stuff without me."

"Nah, I ain't hungover. Straight-ways the opposite, in point a' fact. One sec."

Ellis ducked into the employee's restroom and Keith booted up the computer they used for records. He'd just opened the spreadsheet of current repairs when a despairing cry came through the door.

"Aw, _shit_!"

"Whuss wrong, buddy?"

"Got grease all over my face. I mean, sure, we're mechanics an' all, we get dirty, but this's just _stupid_!" The young man emerged from the bathroom scrubbing furiously with a handful of damp paper towels, which of course did nothing to remove the oily stains. Keith's hazel eyes danced with amusement over the monitor.

"You know better'n that, water ain't gonna help! What'dja do las' night anyhow, if ya weren't gettin' smashed?"

Ellis grumpily dug under the counter for the mineral oil. "Tried ta get that pump finished, but th' steerin' column got all... aha..." He lifted a bottle of thick liquid and carefully poured some onto a paper towel. It immediately started lifting the stains from his skin. "I hadta deal with, like, five diff'rent problems 'fore I could get the damn thing in, but we said it'd be done t'day... I had some coffee so's I could stay awake an' do it all on time."

Keith's mouth twitched in a knowing smile. "Brother, just how much coffee's '_some_?'"

His counterpart's cheeks turned pink, and not just from the scrubbing. "Uh, 'bout five, mebbe six 'spressos from th' machine," he muttered at the ground.

"Oh, dear lord," Keith whistled, and leaned back in his chair. "It's a miracle this town's still standin', ain't it?"

"Shutcher mouth. I got it done, didn't I? Car's out front n' ready. An' I wasn't tired after. Felt like I'd got a goddamn nitro boost, so I cleaned th' garage, too."

"Half. Y'cleaned half of it. Now we also got Christine out there, an' about a ton a' spare parts on th' floor. Didn't we agree she'd stay out back 'cept on days we ain't open?" The redhead's voice was as close to stern as he could get when talking with his best friend.

Ellis finished getting the grease off and returned to the bathroom to wash his face with soap. His words were somewhat garbled by the running water, but still understandable.

"Yeah, I know. S'just... She was _there_ an' I didn't wanna go home, yet, I couldn't've got ta sleep. 'Sides..." He re-emerged again, mostly clean but still sporting a greyish cast that could easily have been either oil or exhaustion. "...wait'll ya see what I did, she ain't knockin' no more an' th' radiator-"

"Ellis," Keith interrupted. "That's all real nice, but we gotta get ev'rythin' cleaned up by seven. Ya know th' rule, 'if it don't make us money...'"

"'...it don't belong at work.' Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it, I'm goin' already." Ellis made for the main garage, fighting a wicked headache.

"Hey, wait up, I didn't say ya had ta do it by yerself." Keith slipped out from behind the desk and nudged his friend in the arm. "We'll get th' chance ta screw around plenty this weekend. Hell, weren't we gonna head down ta the scrapyard t'night? I need some parts f'r th' monster truck."

"I dunno. Mebbe if I ain't feelin' quite so much like horse crap, later." Ellis bent down and began collecting his tools. Keith laughed.

"All right now, kids, we learned somethin' important t'day: _Don't touch Dave's coffee_." He grinned, dodged the wrench Ellis chucked at him, and started cleaning up.


End file.
